Dumbstruck
by SkyChasingDreamer
Summary: AU in which Jean sees Marco, a figure skater, for the first time and it's love at first sight.


**Title**: Dumbstruck

**Pairing**: Jean/Marco

**Rating**: PG

**Collab With**: Kimiooon – link to the art for this is in my profile!

**Disclaimer**: No

**A/N**: The rating for this could change and probably will to NC17 in the next chapter.

**Dumbstruck**

**Part I/II**

_**"At the time, the only thought in my mind was... holy shit."**_

The sun is high in the sky, directly overhead, and there's a brisk chill in the air. Fall is setting in, winter is on its way, and the trees are mostly bare having shed their leaves for the season. Jean can see his breath each time he exhales, the plumes of white thin and barely visible. He likes this kind of weather, he has never had anything against the cold.

"Eren, slow down!"

"No! Hurry up, hurry up!"

Jean rolls his eyes. "What's the goddamn rush?"

"We're meeting Armin and Mikasa."

"Where?"

"The ice rink."

"Why?"

Eren kicks him in the shin as they walk. "'Cause that's where they wanted to meet, would ya shut up now? Woah! Watch it!"

Jean slips on a curve and bats Eren's hand away after he catches him to keep him from falling. They scuffle and push at each other and it ends with Jean smacking Eren on the back of the head. They've been friends a long time, he and Eren, and there's no one he trusts more, to be honest. Armin is the next person he's closest to within their little group, but no one gets his hood rat attitude quite like Eren. Their friendship is easy, they bicker a lot and sometimes get in really nasty fights, but by the end of the day, they're always playing video games or something – even if one or both of them have a black eye.

Jean tightens his green hoodie around himself to ward off the slight chill and runs a hand through his hair, he needs to get it trimmed. His bangs are almost down to his eyes now and he always has to either push them aside or flick his head to get them to move. Eren hurries them along the sidewalk and they skirt around people as they near the large dome housing the ice rink. It's a strange place for them to meet friends at, but it's not like Jean really cares. He likes being surrounded by people he's familiar with and trusts, he can't give a fuck where they choose to do that at.

The place is pretty busy, busier than usual for a weekend, but Jean doesn't think much of it. He tries to get Eren to stop at one of his favorite food trucks, but his friend just grabs him and drags him along. They argue, Jean upholding the importance of eating right and Eren countering that they're already late and they can pick up something later. Their conversation ends when they get into the arena and they walk right up to the railing, eyes scanning the seats and aisles for their friends. Jean looks one way, Eren looks the other, and when something black catches the corner of Jean's eye, he can't help but look.

And that's when he sees him – a man dressed all in black figure skating on the ice.

All the blood drains from Jean's face and for the life of him, he can't think of a single thing. His lips part just slightly and his eyes widen, his legs wobble and he has to lean against the railing. It gives him something to hold onto while everything else falls back to white noise – he's absolutely dumbstruck.

"Jean, let's go." Jean doesn't move, he can't, and Eren waves a hand in front of his face. "Oi! Earth to dumbass! Hey... Jean, wha –"

"He's so fucking hot."

"Hm? Who?" Eren leans in closer so their shoulders are pressed together and squints his eyes. "He's kinda short, don't ya think? And he looks... pissed."

"Huh? No! Not him!" Jean grabs Eren's face between his hands and points it at the skater. "_Him_."

He skates with a natural grace, each subtle shifting of his weight propelling him into every seemingly effortless movement. Jean doesn't know shit about skating, so he doesn't know what to call the moves, but he's still left in awe of them. Each one seems to suck the very breath out of his lung, the cold seeps into him, but his cheeks infuse with heat as he flushes.

"Okay, okay, I see him! Will ya let go of my face now?"

Eren elbows him in the chest and he lets go, clutching the spot, but unable to look away. He's mesmerized, caught so thoroughly in a web that he's held captive. It's not just that this man is attractive, there's something more to it, something equally as magnetic as his looks. He's enjoying himself, Jean can see it, he can _feel_ how much this skater loves to skate. He's so passionate about it and he looks happy while he does it, which, really, is what makes him so fun to watch.

However, Jean almost thinks he should look away, thinks he should shield his eyes because he's witnessing something he has no right to. There's an intimacy about the way the boy skates, like it's just him and the ice, like they're old friends. It's beautiful and while Jean has never labeled himself as gay or straight or bisexual, he can safely say that he has never been as attracted to a single person as he is to this boy right now.

"Who is he?"

"How the hell would I know?"

"Well, you should!"

"Oh, yes, you caught me," Eren snaps in a fierce whisper, "in all the years you've known me I've secretly been sneaking off to pursue my love of figure skating!"

"Goddamn it, Jaeger! I'm having a crisis here! I need to know who he is!"

Eren blinks and has a visible _oh _moment. If there's one thing Jean can always say about Eren, it's that when he needs him, Eren always does his best for him. It never matters if it's something ludicrous or something boring and average, Eren puts his all into it.

"Ah... 'kay, hold on."

Jean pats his back as he goes and continues watching the mystery man skate around the ice. He does a spinny thing that leaves Jean dizzy, but when the guy pulls out of the spin, he skates in straight lines like the whirling and twirling hadn't effected him at all. He skates down the far side of the arena and picks up speed on his way back, his short dark hair flowing back over his forehead. It looks soft, his hair does, and Jean's fingers twitch with the sudden desire to run his fingers through it. It's absurd! He has never looked at someone and had these feelings before and he's sure that if his heart beats any harder, it's going to burst forth from his chest.

For fuck's sake – He. Has. _Freckles._

"Alright, I've found something," Eren says, tugging on Jean's sleeve to get his attention. He leans in and Eren holds up a pamphlet for them both to see. "Looks like his name is Marco Bott and that grumpy ass dude in the back, you know, the short one, that's his trainer, Levi."

"He's a potential candidate for the Olympics next year," Jean reads, only able to look at it because Marco has skated to the side to talk to his trainer.

Armin says from behind them, "That's why I wanted to stop by. There are several talented athletes here."

"I think Jean's in love with one of them," Eren replies, patting Jean's head consolingly.

"Really?" Armin comes up and leans against the barrier next to Jean, Mikasa silently moving to stand on Eren's other side. "Which one?"

"The Marco dude."

"Oh, yeah, he's good. I think out of everyone he has the best chance of making it."

"I need to meet him," Jean says and even to his own ears, his voice sounds shell-shocked.

Armin raises a brow at him. "Good luck with that, these guys are top athletes, you can't just walk over and say hi. Especially with Marco, his trainer has a... history of being overprotective."

"I need to meet him," Jean repeats.

"Better hurry then, he leaves tomorrow."

Jean startles and accidentally crumples part of the pamphlet. "Tomorrow? Why so soon?"

"They're only here for the weekend."

That's not what Jean wants to hear! It's Sunday already! They can't just leave! Where are they going? He has to do something! What if Marco leaves without ever knowing Jean exists? He can't let that happen! He knows he'll regret it if he lets his opportunity pass him by!

Across the rink, Marco finishes talking to Levi and goes back on the ice. He stretches his arms above his head and rolls his shoulders, his mass of fetching freckles visible even at a distance. Jean could call out, he could yell and use that to get Marco's attention, but that doesn't seem like enough. All Marco would have to do is skate away from him because he looks like some psychotic fan.

"Here," Jean shoves the pamphlet into Armin's chest for him to take, "hold this for me, would ya?"

"Sure, I have one t – Jean... what are you doing?"

"Climbing over the railing!"

"You can't do that!"

"Watch me!"

Jean struggles and squirms, trying to pull himself over the barricade, but it's too high where he's at. He's just about to give up and try a different spot when Eren gets down on a knee and lends him a hand. He grabs Jean's foot and shoves, giving him the boost he needs to get over the railing onto the ice.

"Go get him, buddy!"

The first thing Jean does when he lands on the other side is slip and fall on his face. He scrambles and flops, fighting to get his own feet under himself so he can get up. None of the skaters have noticed him yet and he only has eyes for Marco as he finally collects himself by using the wall to stand. He walks at first, arms out to help keep his balance, and he shuffles when he feels like his shoes are going to lose traction if he lifts them up.

He looks stupid, he knows he does, but that doesn't stop him, nothing can stop him right now. He has too much adrenaline rushing through him, he can't process anything except the single thing he's after – one track mind, it's called. He can hear Eren cheering for him and that both emboldens him and embarrasses him, but more the former than the latter.

Marco is coming his way, but... he doesn't see Jean. He's in his zone, focusing on the preparation for his next move, which turns out to be a jump that takes him into the air and he does three quick spins before landing on one skate. Jean would marvel at the skill and precision it takes to do something like that, but he's a little distracted because Marco is mere feet away from him and about to hit him. Jean jerks back and Marco narrowly swerves around him, but Jean still ends up on his ass... _again_.

"Are you okay?" Marco asks, cheeks flushed at the top from the exertion.

Jean stares up at him, a deer caught in headlights, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, "You s-skate good!"

"Oh, ah... thank you," Marco replies and his head tilts. "You came all the way out here just to tell me that?"

Jean nods and Marco raises a hand to cover his mouth. There's the faintest noise, so quiet it almost gets lost among the sounds of skates against ice, but Jean hears it. It makes his face blush even more furiously and he ducks his head, not trying to get up because that will only make him look foolish all over again.

"You're laughing at me."

"No! No," he's smiling, he has such a nice smile, "here, let me help you." He holds his hand out, a small smile remaining on his face, and Jean reaches up to take it. Marco skates backward and pulls Jean to his feet, but continues holding his hand to keep him steady. It doesn't escape Jean how warm Marco's hand is through his black glove and it's a comfort more than anything. "Usually people wear skates when they're on the ice."

"Yeah... I've noticed."

"What's your name?"

"Jean," he says and loops his arm with Marco's as they slowly make their way to the side of the rink. "I just learned yours today. You know, in one of those pamphlet things."

Marco tilts his face away to laugh and when he looks back over, his kind eyes are shining. "You're crazy."

Jean cracks a lopsided smile and holds onto Marco tighter. "I guess I must be."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
